Autobiography  and  ReminisceriMs 


□F  THE  LATE 


AUGUST  FENELEH. 


Edited  by  WM.  M.  CANBY. 


: rv 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  ILLINOIS 


LIBRARY 


Botanical  Gazette 


Yol.  X. 


JUNE,  1885. 


No.  6. 


An  Autobiography  and  Some  Reminiscences  of  the  Late  August 

Fendler.  I. 

EDITED  BY  WM.  M.  CANBY. 

Brief  notices  of  the  late  August  Fendler  have  appeared  in 
several  scientific  periodicals,  but  scarcely  such  as  so  excellent  a 
man  and  one  so  useful  to  science  deserved.  Feeling  this,  a fuller 
account,  consisting  of  extracts  from  his  correspondence  and  some 
personal  reminiscences,  was  prepared  by  the  writer.  After  this 
had  been  done,  it  was  found  that,  at  Prof.  Eaton’s  suggestion,  Mr. 
Fendler  had  written  and  sent  to  him  the  autobiography  which 
has  been  kindly  furnished,  and  is  here  given.  The  former  ac- 
count, revised  and  enriched  with  further  extracts  from  his  letters 
to  Professors  Gray  and  Eaton,  is  appended. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

August  Fendler,  the  only  child  of  Mathias  Fendler,  was  born  on  the  10th 
day  of  January,  1813,  at  the  town  of  Gumbinnen,  in  the  most  eastern  part  of 
Prussia.  When  he  was  about  six  months  old  his  father,  who  by  trade  was  a 
turner  in  wood  and  ivory,  died.  Two  years  later  his  mother  married  again. 
Little  August’s  parents  being  possessed  of  but  scanty  means,  could  not  do  much 
for  the  boy  in  the  way  of  education.  Hence  it  happened  that  his  school  train- 
ing was  for  a number  of  years  confined  to  the  most  rudimental  establishment, 
scarcely  deserving  the  name  of  a school.  When  about  twelve  years  old  he  was 
sent  to  the  “ Gymnasium,”  a kind  of  preparatory  school  for  the  University. 
Here  he  showed  more  aptiiude  for  mathematics  than  for  Greek  and  Latin,  and 
after  a term  of  four  years  his  parents,  becoming  financially  embarrassed,  were 
obliged  to  take  him  from  school.  Being  apprenticed  to  the  town  clerk’s  office, 
he  soon  found  that  the  kind  of  writing  to  be  done  here  was  to  him  but  a lime 
and  spirit-killing  employment,  during  which  the  longing  for  a visit  to  foreign 
countries  grew  daily  stronger. 

At  the  end  of  his  apprenticeship  his  first  chance  for  traveling  presented 
itself.  He  received  an  offer  from  a distinguished  physician  to  accompany  him 
in  the  capacity  of  clerk  during  a journey  of  inspection  to  be  made  with  regard 
to  the  quarantine  stations  along  the  Eussian  frontier  of  Prussia,  which  the 
much  dreaded  cholera  was  then,  for  the  first  time,  fast  approaching  in  its  west- 
ward course  through  Europe.  F.  accepted  the  offer  most  readily,  and  as  the 


9.86 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


time  of  starting  on  this  little  trip  was  fixed  upon  for  the  next  morning,  he  could 
not  sleep  an  hour  all  night  for  excitement  and  joy.  They  had  not  been  long 
on  their  journey  when  the  physician  received  the  alarming  news  that  the  cholera 
had  already  made  its  appearance  in  a large  Prussian  village  on  the  frontier. 
To  this  point  they  hastened  immediately.  The  cholera  made  sad  havoc  among 
the  population  of  the  village,  and  F.  was  soon  surrounded  by  cholera  patients, 
an  unusually  great  percentage  of  whom  died.  The  ravages  of  the  cholera  in  this 
place  finally  abated,  and  F.  went  home. 

He  was  now  troubling  his  mind  more  than  ever  with  the  question  what 
trade  or  occupation  to  choose  that  would  give  him  a good  chance  for  traveling. 
If  he  had  but  known  that  there  was  such  an  occupation  as  that  of  a collector 
of  plants,  and  that  from  the  sale  of  them  he  could  clear  his  traveling  expenses, 
how  happy  would  he  have  been  to  prepare  himself  for  it,  the  more  so  as  he  was 
fond  of  objects  of  vegetation.  But  no  such  information  had  ever  reached  him ; 
he  had  seen  no  books  describing  the  species  of  plants  of  any  locality,  and  the 
schools  had  been  silent  on  the  subject. 

Having  a preference  for  a trade  based  upon  chemistry,  and  having  been 
assured  that  the  tanning  and  currying  trade  was  the  one  that  would  take  him 
safely  through  all  Europe  and  America,  he  became  an  apprentice  to  it,  and 
during  two  years  of  steady  hard  work  learned  practically  most  of  the  various 
manipulations,  disgusting  though  some  of  them  are  to  most  persons,  and  trying 
as  they  were  to  his  rather  slender  and  light  frame  of  body.  He  got  over  all 
the  objections  in  a most  cheerful  manner,  looking  constantly  to  the  future  chances 
for  travel  offered  by  his  trade. 

Meanwhile  F.  found  out  that  there  existed  in  Berlin  a kind  of  Polytechnic 
school,  the  Boyal  Gewerbe  schule ; in  which  young  artisans,  who  showed  an  abil- 
ity for  readily  acquiring  the  physical  sciences,  were  to  receive  not  only  free 
instruction,  but  likewise  an  annual  stipend  of  three  hundred  thalers  for  three 
years.  The  candidates  for  these  favors  to  be  selected,  after  due  examination, 
two  or  three  from  each  province  of  the  kingdom.  Arrived  at  this  school,  the 
pupils  found  soon  that  the  vigorous  and  rapid  course  of  instruction  tasked  all 
their  mental  powers.  A small  proportion  of  their  number  only  were  able  to 
avail  themselves  of  the  whole  three  years’  instruction,  all  the  rest  being  dis- 
missed as  unfit,  either  at  the  end  of  the  first  or  second  year. 

In  the  fall  of  1834  F.  was  admitted  a pupil  to  the  Royal  Gewerbe  schule,  but 
the  continued  sedentary  life,  combined  with  the  strain  of  mind  in  studying  till 
late  at  night,  told  plainly  that  this  mode  of  life  did  not  agree  with  his  health. 
Advised  by  his  physician  to  desist  from  any  further  exertions  at  this  school,  he, 
at  the  end  of  the  first  year,  asked  for  his  dismission,  which  was  granted,  accom- 
panied by  a testimonial  certifying  to  his  “ good  and  very  good  progress  in  all 
the  various  branches  of  instruction.” 

In  the  autumn  of  1835  F.,  with  knapsack  on  his  back,  started  from  Berlin 
in  the  capacity  of  a traveling  artisan  ( Handwerksbursche ),  passing,  through  parts 
of  Silesia,  Saxony  to  Frankfort,  and  down  the  river  Rhine,  working  in  several 
places  at  his  trade,  and  finally  going  to  Bremen.  Thence  early  in  the  spring 
of  1836  he  embarked  for  Baltimore,  Maryland,  where  he  arrived  with  only  a 
couple  of  dollars  in  his  pocket.  In  Philadelphia  he  worked  in  a tanyard  for  a 
few  months,  but  found  the  work  too  hard,  and  after  having  visited  the  coal  dis- 
tricts of  Pennsylvania,  he  went  to  New  York  late  in  the  fall  and  withotit  money, 
friends,  or  employment  at  his  trade,  was  obliged  to  go  to  work  in  a lamp  fac- 
tory and  learn  a variety  of  handicraft  more  agreeable  to  him  than  those  of  the 
tanyard.  While  at  New  York  he  witnessed  the  arrival  of  the  first  ocean  steam- 
ers, the  Sirius  and  the  Great  Western.  They  were  side-wheel  steamers,  and 
were  hailed  most  enthusiastically  by  the  people  of  New  York.  The  great 
money  crisis  and  panic  of  1837  depressed  the  lamp  manufacturing  business  to 
such  an  extent  that,  one  after  another,  all  the  journeymen  of  his  shop,  as  well 


o 

■> 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


287 


pa 


Us 


_sd 

£ 

<s- 

$ 


as  the  apprentices,  had  to  quit.  F.  was  the  last  one  to  leave  his  employer,  until 
finally  in  the  spring  of  1838  the  shop  was  shut  up  altogether. 

F.  having  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  St.  Louis,  Missouri,  the  then  “Far 
West,”  started  as  early  as  possible.  The  best  and  quickest  route  he  could  find 
at  that  time  was  the  following:  from  New  York  up  the  Hudson  river  to  Al- 
bany by  steamer;  then  to  Buffalo  by  canal,  which  took  seven  or  eight  days; 
thence  by  steamer  to  Cleveland,  Ohio;  thence  by  canal  to  Portsmouth,  on  the 
Ohio  river ; thence  down  the  Ohio  and  up  the  Mississippi  by  steamboat  to  St. 
Louis.  The  whole  journey  from  New  York  to  St.  Louis  required  thirty  days, 
and  at  the  most  economical  rate,  by  taking  deck-passage  on  the  steamers,  could 
not  be  made  for  less  than  thirty  dollars. 

At  St.  Louis,  which  at  that  time  had  but  13,000  inhabitants,  F.  got  em- 
ployment as  lamp  maker  with  a man  who  had  just  commenced  making  spirit- 
gas  for  lighting  public  houses,  as  the  manufacture  of  coal-gas  had  not  reached 
so  far  west.  F.’s  wages  were  good,  but  getting  dissatisfied  with  the  poor  tools 
and  the  cold  and  open  room  he  had  to  work  in  at  the  approach  of^winter,  he  di- 
rected his  thoughts  towards  the  sunny  South,  and  resolved  to  leave  St.  Louis 
about  Christmas  time  in  1838.  As  all  the  river  steamers  were  ice-bound,  he 
took  up  his  staff  and  knapsack,  the  same  he  used  to  carry  in  the  old  country, 
and  crossing  the  Mississippi,  he  commenced  his  solitary  walk  through  the  then 
thinly  settled  forests  of  Illinois,  the  cane-brakes  of  Kentucky,  and  part  of  Ten- 
nessee, where  he  fell  in  with  two  other  men  bound  for  New  Orleans.  As  no 
steamboats  from  northern  ports  had  yet  been  able  to  break  the  great  ice  barrier 
'below  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  river,  the  three  wayfarers  joined  in  buying  an  old 
skiff,  and  in  it  floated  down  the  great  river.  Towards  evening  the  same  day  a 
steamboat,  the  first  to  break  the  ice,  was  espied  by  them  coming  down,  was 
hailed,  boarded,  and  the  skiff  abandoned. 

Arrived  at  New  Orleans,  the  talk  about  Texas  induced  F.  to  seek  adven- 
tures still  farther  west.  Embarked  in  a steamer  and  arrived  at  Galveston  in 
January,  1839.  Galveston  island  at  that  time  contained  about  a dozen  poor- 
looking houses  scattered  about  its  low  and  sandy  surface.  From  Galveston  he 
went  to  Houston,  the  capital  of  Texas.  The  government  of  Texas  then  grant- 
ing to  every  immigrant  a “headright”  of  320  acres  of  public  land,  F.  applied 
for  one  and  received  it,  but  in  order  to  have  it  selected  and  surveyed  he  was 
required,  well  armed,  to  join  the  surveyors,  in  order  to  strengthen  their  party 
against  any  premeditated  attack  from  the  wild  Comanches  who,  it  was  feared, 
might  at  any  time  pounce  upon  them.  But  having  no  rifle,  he  could  not  join 
the  surveying  party,  and  hence  had  to  leave  his  grant  of  land  unselected. 

His  stay  of  twelve  months  in  Texas  was  full  of  exciting  incidents.  Having 
roamed,. for  the  most  part  singly,  the  country  as  far  as  to  the  then  uninhabited 
spot  (soon,  however,  to  be  surveyed  by  order  of  the  government)  where  now  the 
new  capital  of  Austin  stands,  and  suffering  from  a severe  attack  of  bilious  fe- 
ver, F.  returned  to  the  nearest  settlement,  and  subsequently  to  Houston,  just  in 
time  to  be  an  unwilling  witness  to  the  dreadful  and  distressing  sights  of  the  un- 
precedented ravages  of  the  yellow  fever  during  a period  of  four  months  in 
the  summer  and  fall  of  1839.  At  last,  dissatisfied  with  the  country,  nearly 
empty  in  purse,  and  broken  down  in  health,  he  left  for  Illinois,  where  for  some 
time  he  was  engaged  in  teaching  school. 

Autumn  in  North^  America,  and  especially  in  the  Western  States,  always 
presented  more  charms  to  F.’s  mind  than  any  other  part  of  the  year.  Hence 
in  1841,  when  autumn  winds  began  to  scatter  the  falling  forest  leaves,  he  was 
seized  with  an  uncontrollable  desire  for  solitary  life  in  the  wild  woods,  removed 
from  the  haunts  of  man,  in  short,  for  the  independent  life  of  a hermit.  In  his 
search  for  a proper  place,  he  came  upon  a little  village  called  Wellington,  sit- 
uated on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  river,  three  hundred  miles  above  St.  Louis. 
Here  he  learned  that  an  uninhabited  island,  two  and  a half  miles  long,  called 
Wolfs  Island,  not  very  far  below  the  village,  was  at  his  service. 


^688; 


288 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


Without  delay,  F.  packed  his  little  baggage,  including  some  bed-clothes 
and  cooking  utensils,  a rifle,  an  axe  and  some  books,  in  a canoe,  also  taking 
along  some  provisions,  and  started  for  his  new  home.  This  island  was  densely 
wooded  with  gigantic  trees.  On  the  lower  part  of  it,  farthest  removed  from 
the  village,  was  an  old,  dilapidated  log  cabin,  the  former  abode  of  some  wood- 
choppers.  The  upper  part  of  the  chimney  was  gone,  so  that  a tall  man  stand- 
ing on  the  outside  of  it  could  look  down  inside  upon  the  low  fire-place,  from 
the  burrows  of  which  wild  rabbits  popped  forth  at  the  approach  of  man;  part 
of  the  roof  was  gone,  and  the  door  carried  off.  There  was  plenty  of  game, 
however,  especially  wild  turkeys.  These  latter  had  chosen  the  island  as  a roost- 
ing place  for  the  night  and  as  a place  of  safe  retreat  in  daytime  when  chased 
on  the  mainland  by  hunters.  In  a so-called  “turkey-pen”  they  were  easily 
entrapped,  and  thus  an  abundance  of  excellent  food  secured.  To  return  the 
borrowed  canoe  to  its  owner  and  to  make  one  of  his  own  was  his  first  aim.  So 
he  went  to  work  at  a big  trunk  of  a prostrate  tree,  and  with  an  axe  shaped  part 
of  it  into  proper  form  of  a light  canoe  eight  feet  long. 

Removed  from  the  crowd,  the  hum  and  strife  of  men,  his  pastimes  consisted 
alternately  in  trapping,  hunting,  reading,  musing  and  meditating,  and  on  mild 
and  sunny  days  in  paddling  up  a placid  arm  of  the  river,  then  turning  round 
lean  idly  back  in  his  canoe,  thus  floating  home  again.  Occupied  in  this  way  F. 
lived  for  about  six  months,  enjoying  the  sweets  of  solitude  with  a satisfaction 
of  inward  peace  of  mind  and  bliss  higher  than  he  had  expected — contented  and 
happy  as  ever  mortal  man,  similarly  situated,  can  claim  to  be.  His  feelings  of 
content  would  at  times  culminate  into  feelings  of  thankfulness,  which  then 
found  vent  in  words  akin  to  the  soliloquy  of  Faust  at  his  forest  cave:  “Spirit 
sublime ! Thou  unto  me  gav’st  ev’ry  thing  I pray  for.” 

Only  once  he  met  on  the  island  with  a human  being, namely,  with  its  owner, 
coming  to  see  him.  How  long  F.  would  have  continued  to  live  here  is  hard  to 
say,  if  the  great  spring  rise  in  the  Missouri  river,  which  began  to  overflow  part 
of  the  island,  had  not  taken  place.  When  its  waters  rose  to  within  a short  dis- 
tance of  his  cabin  he  thought  ’twas  time  to  leave,  and  entrusting  himself  and 
baggage  to  his  frail  canoe,  was  hurried  along  at  no  mean  speed  by  the  precipi- 
tate rush  of  the  foaming  and  rapidly  swelling  stream.  Dodging  floating  logs 
and  broken  ledges  of  ice,  he  expected  every  moment  to  be  swamped  by  the  high 
waves  caused  by  a stiff  breeze  blowing  up  stream.  To  land  his  tiny  craft 
amidst  eddies  and  whirlpools  at  Lexington,  ten  miles  below  the  island,  was, 
however,  the  most  perilous  part  of  the  venture. 

In  1844  F.  sailed  for  Europe  on  a visit  home.  At  Koenigsberg  he  got  ac- 
quainted with  Ernst  Meyer,  Professor  of  Botany  at  the  University,  who  first 
intimated  to  him  that  a certain  number  of  sets  of  dried  specimens  of  plants 
for  the  herbarium  might  be  disposed  of  at  a reasonable  price,  and  advised  him 
on  his  return  to  the  Western  United  States  to  collect  and  send  them  on,  for  sale, 
to  the  Professor’s  address. 

On  his  return  to  America  and  to  St.  Louis,  F.  assiduously  began  to  collect 
plants,  and  took  the  different  species  to  Dr.  Engelmann,  who  furnished  him 
with  their  scientific  names.  Different  parts  of  the  country,  between  Chicago 
and  New  Orleans,  were  visited  by  him  for  the  purpose  of  collecting.  Dr.  En- 
gelmann observing  the  zeal  of  F.  for  his  new  occupation,  recommended  him  to 
Dr.  Asa  Gray  in  1846,  during  the  war  between  Mexico  and  the  United  States. 
The  latter  being  about  to  send  troops  to  Santa  Fe,  New  Mexico,  Dr.  Gray  fur- 
nished F.  with  a letter  of  recommendation  from  the  Secretary  of  War,  by  means 
of  which  he  got  free  transportation  for  himself,  his  collections  and  luggage.  F. 
arrived  at  Santa  Fe  late  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  when  vegetation  on  the  most 
interesting  part  of  his  route  was  already  dried  up.  Collecting  during  the  fol- 
lowing spring  and  summer,  he  was,  to  his  great  sorrow,  obliged  to  return  to 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


289 


St.  Louis  in  the  fall  of  1847,  his  means  of  subsistence  having  become  ex- 
hausted.* 

In  the  spring  of  1849  F.  started  on  another  collecting  expedition  over  the 
western  plains.  This  time  he  intended  to  visit  the  Great  Salt  Lake  region.  To 
him  the  year  1849  proved  most  disastrous,  for  in  crossing  the  plains,  he  lost  in 
the  Little  Blue  river,  by  a flood  that  came  suddenly  upon  him,  all  his  drying 
paper,  besides  many  other  things  needful  on  his  intended' tour,  as  well  as  his 
principal  means  of  transportation,  so  that  he  was  forced  to  wait  at  Fort  Kear- 
ney for  a chance  to  return  to  St.  Louis.  Arrived  at  the  latter  place,  he  found 
that  all  his  worldly  goods,  all  his  collections,  all  his  books,  and  worse  still,  all 
the  journals  of  his  travels  had  been  destroyed  by  the  great  conflagration  that,  at 
the  same  time,  laid  the  best  business  quarter  of  St.  Louis  into  ashes  during  his 
absence. 

At  the  close  of  1849  F.  embarked  at  New  Orleans  for  Chagres,  on  the  Isth- 
mus of  Panama,  and  after  having  collected  for  four  months  at  and  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Chagres  river,  went  by  the  way  of  New  Orleans  to  Arkansas,  col- 
lecting plants  during  the  summer  at  Camden,  on  the  Washita  river.  The  fall 
of  1850  found  him  settled  at  Memphis,  Tennessee,  introducing  and  carrying  on 
for  three  years  the  camphene-light  business  in  that  town  and  collecting  for  his 
herbarium  as  time  would  permit.  As  soon  as  he  found  that  the  introduction  of 
coal  gas,  in  the  fall  of  1854,t  made  his  camphene  business  unprofitable,  he  was 
on  the  move  again  and  went  by  way  of  New  York  to  La  Guayra,  Venezuela, 
then  up  to  Caraccas,  and  after  a few  months  stay  in  the  latter  place  to  Colonia 
Tovar,  situated  6,500  feet  above  the  sea.  Here,  unattended  by  any  one  in  his 
four  years’  botanical  rambles,  he  scaled  the  lonely  crests  and  explored  the  hid- 
den recesses  of  many  a forest-covered  mountain  range,  and  through  trackless 
wilds  and  along  the  margin  of  foaming  rivulets  gathered  lots  of  Phsenogamous 
plants,  as  well  as  Ferns,  Mosses  and  Fungi.  He  also  paid  attention  to  meteoro- 
logical phenomena,  parts  of  his  observations  being  printed  in  the  annual  report 
of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  for  the  year  1857. 

Having  returned  to  Missouri  F.  acquired,  in  1864,  near  Allentown,  a tract 
of  land  densely  wooded,  which,  with  the  assistance  of  his  half-brother,  he  be- 
gan to  clear  and  cultivate.  Toiling  here  for  seven  years  to  improve  his  new 
homestead,  he  finally  sold  it,  in  1871,  and  left  for  Europe  in  the  spring  follow- 
ing to  pay  once  more  a visit  to  his  old  home  with  a view  to  abide  there.  America, 
however,  had  taken  too  strong  a hold  on  his  affections,  the  more  so  as  he  had 
been  for  twenty-four  years  a naturalized  citizen  of  the  United  States.  He  re- 
turned to  its  shores  in  1873,  and,  after  looking  around  for  some  time,  settled  at 
Wilmington,  Delaware,  which  he  intended  to  make  his  final  and  permanent 
home.  Yet  this  was  not  to  be.  Fearful  attacks  of  acute  rheumatism,  endanger- 
ing his  life,  forced  him,  four  years  after,  again  to  break  loose  and  go  in  search 
of  a more  genial  climate  in  more  southern  latitudes.  In  June,  1877,  he  landed 
in  a feeble  state  of  health  at  Port-of-Spain,  on  the  Island  of  Trinidad,  where  he 
has  been  busy  ever  since  in  making  collections  of  Ferns  and  Phmnogamous 
plants,  as  well  as  Mosses. 


*About  this  time  (July  25, 1848,)  we  find  the  earliest  letter  to  Professor  Gray  which  has 
been  preserved.  1 1 gives  a pitiful  account  of  his  privations  and  losses,  stating,  among  other 
facts,  that  his  brother  had  been  obliged  to  enlist  in  the  army  on  account  of  poverty.  Later 
in  the  year  he  wrote  again,  proposing,  if  proper  pecuniary  encouragement  was  secured,  to 
make  a collecting  tour  on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama:  and  in  California.  No  arrangement  was 
made,  however.  In  a letter  dated  August  11,  1853,  he  states  that  many  of  the  sets  of  his 
Santa  Fe  collections,  which  had  been  sent  to  Europe,  were  still  unsold.  Professor  Gray’s 
classic  Plantx  Fcndlericmx  has  long  since  made  these  invaluable,  and  many  botanists 
would  gladly  purchase  them  now. 

fThis  date  should  be  1853,  as  we  find  by  his  letters  that  he  left  Memphis  on  the  16th  of 
November,  1853,  and  on  December  24,  of  the  same  year,  sailed  from  New  York  for  Vene- 
zuela. The  extracts  from  his  correspondence  given  hereafter  illustrate  his  life  at  this  and 
subsequent  periods. 


290 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


His  notes  and  observations  on  botanical  subjects  are  scattered  in  letters 
to  bis  correspondents.  Besides  Botany,  Meteorology  is  one  of  F.’s  favorite 
studies,  and  wherever  he  resided,  since  1849,  he  made  daily  observations  with 
regard  to  it. 

While  at  Wilmington  F.  published  a little  work  entitled  ‘‘The  Mechanism 
of  the  Universe,”  and  also  translated  Goethe’s  “Faust”  from  the  German  origi- 
nal into  the  English  language.  This  translation  is  yet  in  manuscript  form. 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


301 


II. 


Let  us  now  give,  by  extracts  from  his  letters,  a fuller  account  of  his  life  in 
Venezuela.  In  a letter  written  to  Dr.  Gray,  in  December,  1854,  he  says:  “On 
my  arrival  * * * * (at  Colonia  Tovar),  I found  a chance  to  buy  a small 
farm,  with  the  produce  that  was  on  it  and  a small  cottage,  for  $47.”  One  can 
not  help  wishing  for  more  definite  information  regarding  the  size  of  the  “farm,” 
the  amount  of  produce,  and  the  style  of  cottage,  all  of  which  could  be  pur- 
chased for  $47  ! And  the  place  seems  like  a veritable  Garden  of  Eden,  when 
farther  on  he  discourses  thus : “ A visitor  who  never  before  lived  in  a valley 

like  this,  finds  here  many  peculiarities  of  vegetation,  surface  and  climate, 
which  make  him  feel  that  he  is  not  far  off  the  land  of  perpetual  peace ; for  he 
has  entered  the  happy  region  of  the  ferns,  the  ‘ tierra  templada  de  los  helechos.’ 
There  is  no  scorching  summer’s  heat,  no  fearful  winter’s  cold,  neither  tornadoes 
to  devastate  the  country,  nor  gales  to  blind  the  inhabitants  with  sand  or  dust, 
or  penetrate  their  clothes  and  flesh  with  piercing  frost.  Lightnings  are  rare 
and  rather  harmless,  thunders  merely  grumbling.  * * * * The  mean 

temperature  of  April  was  63.3°;  May,  63.9° ; June,  63°;  July,  62.4°;  August, 
63.62°;  September,  63.5° ; October,  63.44° ; November,  62.52°.  Very  seldom 
the  temperature  gets  as  low  as  50°,  and  yet  more  rarely  it  rises  to  78°.  These 
two  degrees  (50  and  78  F.),  seem  to  be  the  limits  which  are  never  exceeded  in 
these  months.  The  common  temperature  ranges  between  56°  and  70°.  I am 
told  that  in  January  and  February  the  temperature  may  be  a few  degrees  lower 
in  the  morning,  but  otherwise  about  the  same  as  in  all  the  other  months.  The 
temperature  of  this  valley  therefore  is  that  of  a perpetual  spring.  Yet  there  is 
some  variety  in  the  climate  with  regard  to  moisture,  viz.:  the  dry  and  rainy 
seasons.  * * * * In  the  dry  season  if  there  is  at  any  time  moisture 

enough  in  the  atmosphere  to  be  condensed  the  mountainous  districts  are  sure  to 
get  it.  The  judicious  farmer  is  therefore  enabled  to  plant  and  reap  at  any 
time  the  whole  year  round,  for  if  the  rain  should  fail  abundance  of  spring 
water,  which  rushes  and  leaps  down  from  all  sides  in  numerous  rivulets  to 
every  man’s  field,  can  be  made  to  restore  moisture  to  the  soil.  In  fact,  my 
brother,  who  is  with  me,  plants  small  patches  of  potatoes  once  every  fortnight, 
month  after  month.  * * * * My  cottage  stands  on  a small  hill  which  is 

projecting  from  the  sloping  side  of  a mountain  overlooking  the  greater  part  of 
the  colony.  On  the  slopes  of  this  little  hill  we  have  made  terraces,  planted 
with  Musa  sapientum,  with  apple  trees,  palms  (Conocarpus  utilis)  and  a stately 
tree  fern  fourteen  feet  high.  Near  the  brown  polished  stem  of  the  palm  the 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


303 


clear  arch  of  a fountain  glitters  in  the  tropical  sun,  sending  up  unceasingly  its 
sparkling  little  stream  to  the  top  of  the  young  palm.”  He  then  speaks  of 
having  already  collected  about  255  species  of  ferns  as  well  as  other  plants 
“The  fine  dry  weather,  which  is  now  approaching,  urges  me  again  to  renewed 
activity  in  the  field.  The  woods  here  are  very  dense,  and  impenetrable  without 
a sabre.  The  neighboring  country  is  much  diversified.  In  two  or  three  hours’ 
walk  I can  be  in  a region  where  the  tropical  fruits  in  all  their  luxuriance 
grow,  while  the  products  of  the  colony  are  rye,  barley,  oats,  wheat,  potatoes, 
beans,  flaxseed,  etc.  The  apple  tree  here  is  more  shrub  than  tree-like,  blossoms 
at  all  times  of  the  year,  and  bears  apples  without  seeds.  * * * * The 

finest  strawberries  can  be  gathered  a few  steps  from  my  door  in  great  abundance 
during  eight  months  of  the  year;  blackberries  are  equally  abundant.  Of 
palms  I have  collected  six  species,  of  which  five  grow  in  the  colony;  tree 
ferns  nine  or  ten  species.  Cruciferse  and  Umbelliferse  are  represented  only  by 
two  or  three  species.” 

In  a letter  to  Dr.  Gray,  under  date  of  Nov.  25,  1855,  he  informs  him  that 
he  had  already  collected  314  species  of  ferns,  “ of  which  at  least  290  were  col- 
lected at  the  colony,  or  from  four  to  eight  miles  around  it.”  He  had  also  col- 
lected 1,850  species  of  flowering  plants,  and  thought  he  might  get  800  or  1,000 
more  of  these,  and  perhaps  eighty  or  a hundred  more  of  ferns. 

Late  in  1855  or  early  in  1856  he  returned  to  this  country.  About  May  1 
of  the  latter  year  he  again  sailed  for  Venezuela,  and  by  July  of  1857  had  in- 
creased his  fern  numbers  to  489  and  of  flowering  plants  to  : ,541.  He  busied 
himself  also  with  Fungi  for  Dr.  Curtis,  Lichens  for  Prof.  Tuckerman,  and 
Mosses  for  Mr.  Sullivant.  He  speaks  of  there  being  heavy  white  frosts  in  the 
high  mountain  regions,  “ and  yet  the  stately  wax  palm  on  the  neighboring 
heights,  with  its  polished  shaft  of  seventy  or  eighty  feet,  rears  uninjured  its 
slender  form  and  its  leaf-adorned  head  high  above  all  other  trees.”  Two  state- 
ments taken  from  his  journal  will  complete  the  extracts  from  his  Venezuelan 
correspondence. 

“In  traveling  from  Victoria  towards  Valencia  we  find,  about  three  miles 
west  of  Turmero,  right  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  the  famous  ‘ Zamang,’  an 
enormous  tree  so  well  described  by  Alexander  von  Humboldt.  Its  head, 
formed  by  enormous  horizontal  branches,  is  the  most  remarkable  part  of  this 
giant  of  trees.  * * * I measured  its  head  in  its  greatest  diameter  * * * 
most  carefully,  and  found  it  to  be  206  feet  11  inches  English.  Fifty-seven 
years  ago  it  was  found  by  Humboldt  to  measure  in  its  greatest  diameter  192 
feet  French  measure,  which  would  be  equal  to  204.48  feet  English.  Hence  it 
follows  that  this  tree,  within  the  last  fifty-seven  years,  has  increased  the  hori- 
zontal diameter  of  its  head  only  by  2 feet  5 inches  English.  The  branches  are 
loaded  with  a wonderful  mass  of  epiphytes  and  parasites,  and  it  seems  surpris- 
ing that  branches  of  nearly  one  hundred  feet  in  length,  standing  horizontally 
out  from  the  trunk,  can  support  for  centuries,  besides  their  own  astonishing 
weight,  such  an  extra  load  of  heavy’plants  as  Bromeliacese,  Orchidese,  Cactea;, 
Loranthacese,  Piperacese,  etc.”  The  next  relates  to  the  celebrated  “ Cow-trees.” 
“ The  space  over  which  they  were  distributed  was  but  very  limited.  * * 

Their  external  appearance,  the  shape  of  the  trunk  and  leaves,  agree  exactly 
with  the  description  given  by  A.  von  Humboldt.  Most  of  them  were 
trees  of  1 to  1J  feet  in  diameter,  but  very  tall.  In  seven  or  eight  of  these  trees, 
of  different  age  and  dimensions,  I made  incisions  to  see  the  milk  flow.  Al- 
though it  was  about  the  same  season  of  the  year  when  Humboldt  saw  the  cow- 
tree  between  Valencia  and  Puerto  Carbello,  I never  could  elicit  from  them 
more  than  one  or  two  drops  in  a second  of  time.  There  was  not  much  differ- 
ence in  the  flow  of  milk  between  the  larger  and  smaller  trees,  and  if  ever  I 
was  disappointed  in  my  expectation,  it  certainly  was  on  this  occasion  as  to  the 
quantity  of  the  milk.  The  milk  has  an  agreeable,  mild,  rather  rich  taste, 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


303 


and  becomes  somewhat  sticky  between  the  fingers.  People  who  live  not  far  off', 
and  have  tried  these  cow-trees,  do  not  praise  much  their  milk-yielding  quali- 
ties. I have  neither  seen  the  fruit  nor  the  flower  of  these  trees,  but  in  compar- 
ing its  leaves  with  those  of  plants  in  my  herbarium  I find  the  closest  resemblance 
in  shape,  structure  and  venation  with  some  species  of  fig  trees.  The  wood  is 
white  and  of  considerable  hardness.* 

Fendler  returned  to  this  country  and  settled  again  at  St.  Louis  sometime 
in  1858.  It  is  not  necessary  to  recount  his  various  occupations  between  this  date 
and  the  time  of  his  removal  to  Wilmington. 

About  the  year  1873  the  writer  received  a note  from  the  late  Dr.  Engel- 
mann,  giving  information  that  Fendler  had  settled  at  Seaford,  Delaware,  and 
requesting  that  some  attention  should  be  paid  to  him.  After  a short  correspon- 
dency with  the  writer  he  determined  to  remove  to  Wilmington  in  the  same 
State,  where  he  purchased  a small  house  and  garden.  In  the  latter  he  and  his 
brother  (who  required  some  care)  took  great  delight.  At  this  time  Fendler  was 
about  60  years  of  age,  rather  tall  and  spare,  dignified  and  pleasant  in  address, 
but  very  modest  and  often  painfully  diffident.  The  writer  frequently  took  botan- 
ical excursions  with  him,  and  found  him  to  be  a devoted  lover  of  nature  and  a 
most  intelligent  and  faithful  assistant  in  preparing  and  arranging  specimens  for 
the  herbarium.  The  enthusiam  with  which  he  spoke  of  the  wonderful  and  cu- 
rious vegetation  of  the  tropics  will  always  be  remembered  by  those  who  heard 
him  ; and  his  long  and  arduous  journeys  gave  him  much  matter  for  enter- 
taining conversation. 

He  was  scrupulously  honest  and  exact  in  every  duty  and  business  transac- 
tion, and  it  is  within  the  writer’s  knowledge  that  he  at  one  time  suffered  what 
his  friends  thought  a most  unjust  loss,  because  of  his  determination  to  avoid  a 
quarrel  with  any  one. 

He  was  now  much  engaged  in  getting  ready  for  publication  his  “ Mechan- 
ism of  the  Universe,”  in  which  he  had  given  his  ideas  of  cosmical  phenomena. 
Nothing  would  persuade  him  that  this  book  was  not  to  bring  him  lasting  fame, 
and  no  reasoning  could  discourage  him  from  undertaking  the  expense  of  publi- 
cation. All  that  could  be  done  was  to  save  him  as  much  as  possible.  The  ex- 
pense proved  to  be  comparatively  small,  but,  in  this  respect,  was  much  more 
than  matched  by  the  small  sale  of  the  work.  The  few  commendatory  letters 
which  he  received  were  treasured  and  re-read  with  the  greatest  pleasure  by  the 
gentle  and  guileless  man. 

As  he  says  in  his  autobiography,  it  had  been  his  intention  to  make  Wil- 
mington his  permanent  home ; but  a year  or  two  after  he  settled  there  he  was 
attacked  by  some  rheumatic  ailments,  which  not  only  caused  the  most  acute 
suffering,  but  at  one  time  seemed  likely  to  end  his  career.  Finally,  when  he 
had  somewhat  regained  his  health,  he  determined  to  seek  a warmer  climate, 
choosing,  after  some  deliberation,  the  island  of  Trinidad.  He  and  his  brother 
sailed  from  New  York  on  the  11th  of  May,  1877,  and  arrived  at  Port  of  Spain 
on  the  3d  day  of  June  following.  In  a short  time  he  bought  a little  property 
at  Belmont,  a suburb  of  this  city,  and  at  once  commenced  to  plant  the  ground 
and  otherwise  improve  his  new  home.  He  was  more  than  ever  delighted  with 
the  tropical  flora,  and  thus  wrote  his  impressions  : “The  gardens  of  some  of  the 
wealthy  men  here  are  of  a splendor  which,  with  regard  to  magnificence  of  veg- 
etation, excels  everything  I have  seen.  Such  beauty  in  form,  such  gorgeous 
colors  portioned  out  among  such  an  abundance  of  racemes,  bunches,  and  scat- 
tered masses  of  flowers,  is  indescribable.  * * * All  efforts  of  the  most  able 


-The  “Cow-tree”  (Palo  de  Vaca  of  the  Spaniards)  was  described  by  Humboldt,  Bon  - 
pland  and  Kunth  as  a genus  under  the  name  of  Galactodendro’n  utile.  It  is  now  consid- 
ered as  identical  with  the  older  genus  Brosimum  of  Swartz,  of  which  Bentham  and  Hooker 
recognize  eight  species,  all  tropical  American  trees  with  lactescent  sap.  As  Fendler  sus- 
pected they  are  nearly  allied  to  the  fig  trees  (Ficus),  but  it  is  possible,  as  his  trees  were 
such  “poor  milkers,”  that  some  species  have  a smaller  flow  of  the  milky  sap  than  others. 


304 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


writer  can  not  but  fail  to  give  the  reader  an  adequate  conception  of  the  bril- 
liancy of  such  garden  scenery  and  of  the  astonishing  luxuriance  of  vegetation. 
Men  and  their  habitations  sink  into  insignificance  beside  the  enormous  trunks  and 
heads  of  giant  trees,  and  the  busy  town  itself,  looked  at  from  the  neighboring 
hills,  lies  hidden  beneath  their  branches.  * * * * Bananas  and  mangoes  are 
plenty,  and  sell  two  for  one  cent.  The  mango,  which  when  ripe  is  a delicious 
fruit,  will  be  in  its  perfection  in  about  a week,  and  will  then  sell  much  cheaper.” 

Again,  in  a letter  to  Dr.  Gray,  he  writes  : “ Here,  also,  as  in  North  Amer- 

ica, June  seems  to  be  the  month  of  flowers,  at  least  as  regards  the  cultivated  or- 
namental shrubs  and  trees  in  Port  of  Spain.  At  present  Poinsettia  takes  the 
lead,  and  shows  off  in  great  splendor.  Think  of  specimens  of  this  beautiful 
shrub  15  feet  high,  head  10  to  15  feet  in  diameter,  with  such  an  abundance  of 
crimson  leaves  (4  to  7 inches  long)  as  to  hide  nearly  all  the  green  leaves.  The 
season  for  mangoes  came  to  a close  about  the  first  of  August,  to  be  succeeded  by 
what  is  here  called  ‘Governor’s  Plums.’  Next  came  the  season  for  bread-fruit, 
ending  about  the  24th  of  October,  and  now  we  are  entering  the  season  for  or- 
anges.” 

Very  soon  he  commenced  collecting  specimens  for  the  herbarium,  the  ferns, 
as  usual,  being  the  first  to  demand  attention.  Within  five  miles  of  his  residence 
he  found,  within  a few  weeks,  “about  70  species.”  His  aim  was  to  make  50  sets 
for  sale,  and  in  the  course  of  two  months  he  had  prepared  more  than  2,800 
specimens.  Those  botanists  who  are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  these  specimens 
can  well  allow  his  claim,  that  “as  regards  completeness,  freshness  of  color  and 
expression  of  characteristics”  they  were  “all  that  could  reasonably  be  desired 
and  expected.”  As  a demand  arose  he  collected  many  specimens  of  mosses, 
lichens  and  phanerogamous  plants. 


botanical  gazette. 


319 


III. 


His  old  habit  of  meteorological  observation  was  kept  up  with  unfailing 
regularity.  He  writes:  “ The  evenings,  mornings  and  nights  are  delightfully 
cool — the  thermometer  standing  at  73°-80°,  and  generally  clear.  The  heat  of 
the  day  attains  its  maximum  at  noon,  when  the  mercury  usually  rises  to  94°  or 
96°.  We  make  five  thermometric  observations  every  day  at  5:30  and  7 A.  m.,  12 
M.  and  2 and  8:30  p.  m.”  This  industry  and  exactness,  traits  of  character  so 
unusual  among  the  population  of  Trinidad,  combined  with  the  daily  drying  in 
the  sun  of  botanical  papers,  an  occupation  which,  as  many  botanists  know,  ex- 
cites the  wonder  and  amusement  cf  people  claiming  a more  enlightened  civili- 
zation, soon  rendered  the  brothers  liable  to  a suspicion  that  they  were  engaged 
in  counterfeiting  or  some  other  illicit  business.  In  consequence  their  house  was 
taken  possession  of  and  searched  by  the  not  over-gentle  police,  who  even  dug  over 
their  garden.  It  was  a severe  trial  to  the  scrupulously  honest  man.  “That  this 
little  affair  weighed  heavily  upon  my  mind  and  gnawed  deep  into  my  immod- 
erately sensitive  feelings,  you  may  well  imagine,”  he  wrote  soon  after.  After 
sometime  he  again  wrote:  “Not  minding  more  than  I can  help  the  people 
around  me,  I go  on  improving  my  little  property,  setting  out  lots  of  Yams, 
Tanias  and  Bananas,  and  putting  in  cuttings  of  different  ornamental  shrubs  and 
roses,  also  a weeping  willow;  raising  from  seeds  Rondeletia,  Coxcomb,  Zinnias, 
Pinks,  Petunias,  etc.,  etc.,  to  remind  me  of  my  former  more  northern  home.” 

The  promiscuous  population  of  Trinidad  afforded  Fendler  much  interest 
and  amusement.  He  contrasted  the  large  Coolie  population  with  the  New  Mexi- 
can Indians  he  had  formerly  known,  finding  many  points  of  resemblance  in 
character  and  habits.  Among  the  latter  he  notes  particularly  the  well  known 
one  of  taking  a whiff  or  two  from  a pipe  and  passing  it  on  from  one  to  another. 
But  to  one  so  honorable  there  was  much  also  to  cause  pain.  A short  extract 
will  throw  some  light  on  his  habit  of  thought.  “ The  observer  of  mankind  finds 
in  this  Island  much  to  interest  him,  but  to  me  it  is  a source  of  pain  to  see  the 
dense  swarms  of  humanity  full  of  tricks  and  deception  * * * with  in- 

decent haste  trying  to  cheat  and  undermine  each  other.  It  is  only  when  get- 
ting among  ‘the  high  woods,’  in  places  where  the  single  individual  finds  him- 


320 


botanical  gazette. 


self  almost  lost  between  the  boughs  and  leaves  of  nature’s  fairest  objects,  that  I 
feel  happy  again  and  forget  the  folly  and  rancor  of  the  surging  multitudes  not 
far  off.”  His  garden  prospered  under  his  loving  care,  and  he  wrote  enthusias- 
tically of  his  flower  beds  and  noted  accurately  the  yield  of  his  fruit  trees.  “ A 
few  days  ago  our  Mango  tree  yielded  the  last  of  its  fruit,  giving  us  in  all  426 
mangoes  of  about  half  a pound  each.”  At  another  time  he  says  : “ The  Mango 
tree  gave  438  mangoes  up  to  August  11,  and  more  to  ripen  soon.  One  orange 
tree  furnished  1,006  sweet  oranges.  Fewer  in  number  were  the  Plantains  and 
Breadfruits,  of  which  we  have  become  quite  fond.” 

Much  of  his  time  was  given  to  botanical  excursions  and  collections,  often 
giving  him  much  pleasure. 

He  writes  to  Dr.  Gray:  “ Let  me  give  you  an  account  of  one  of  these  ex- 
cursions. As  the  railroad  train  which  is  to  take  me  to  St.  Josephs  (six  miles 
east  of  Port  of  Spain)  does  not  start  before  7 A.  M.,  I need  not  rise  earlier  than 
4 o’clock.  Then  preparing  breakfast,  and  getting  things  all  right,  I start  from 
home  at  six,  walking  one  and  one-half  miles  to  the  railroad  depot,  and  arrive 
at  St.  Josephs  at  half-past  seven.  From  St.  Josephs  I have  to  walk  six  miles 
up  Maraccas  valley  in  a northern  direction,  the  road  crossing  the  unbridged 
river  nine  times  and  rising  gradually  all  the  way  to  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains (where  I get  by  about  ten  o’clock),  and  for  three  miles  farther  the  road 
passes  through  small  cacao  plantations  where  nothing  is  to  be  collected  in  my 
line  of  business.  Where  the  steep  declivities  begin  the  plantations  cease  and 
the  primeval  forests  are  entered.  Searching  for  specimens  to  the  right  and 
left  I reach  at  length,  three  miles  farther  on,  the  place  that  leads  over  the 
mountain  ridge  and  down  the  other  side  towards  the  Caribbean  Sea.  By  the 
time  I get  to  the  top  of  the  ridge  it  is  about  two  or  three  o’clock  in  the  after- 
noon. By  this  time  the  most  interesting  region  has  been  reached  and  the  search 
for  specimens  is  redoubled.  During  the  excitement  of  searching  and  gathering, 
the  flight  of  time  is  not  heeded,  and  before,  in  scrambling  downward,  I have 
made  three  miles  headway,  I am  reminded  by  the  lengthening  shadows,  that  it 
were  best  soon  to  look  for  a resting  place  for  the  night  near  some  suitable  tree 
or  rock.  In  the  dry  season,  when  the  sky  promises  to  be  serene  for  the  coming 
night,  I make  a heap  of  dry,  or  nearly  dry  leaves  close  to  the  base  of  the  tree 
against  which  I am  going  to  lean.  The  tree  ought  not  to  be  far  off'  from  a 
running  stream,  so  that  I may  not  lack  a supply  of  water  which,  with  a few 
biscuits  steeped  in  it  and  a piece  of  cold  meat,  makes  up  my  supper.  This 
barely  finished,  the  shades  of  night  settle  fast  around  me,  the  transition  from 
day  to  night  and  from  night  to  day,  being  so  sudden  in  these  latitudes  that  the 
darkness  of  night  is  upon  one  before  he  is  aware  of  it.  Horse-flies  and  mos- 
quitoes are  very  eager  for  attack  towards  evening,  but  as  soon  as  it  has  turned 
dark  they  are  gone.  Nevertheless  I do  not  fail  to  hang  a piece  of  mosquito- 
netting over  my  head  and  face,  to  protect  myself  against  the  attacks  of  a species 
of  big  bats  called  ‘vampires,’  and  now,  with  no  one  to  talk  to,  commences  the 
long,  lone  watch  of  the  night,  for  sleep  it  can  not  be  called.  Over  head  in  the 
tree  tops  the  stars  twinkle  through  a few  open  places,  but  all  else  around  is  hid 
in  shade  and  darkness;  even  the  moon’s  softening  rays  are  not  allowed  to  enter 
the  dark  recess.  At  times,  when  the  wind  rises,  the  boughs  of  the  higher  trees 
utter  a doleful  whisper,  and  from  afar  comes  up  the  hollow,  dull,  yet  angry 
moan  of  the  distant  surf  from  some  of  the  coves  of  the  coast,  which  but  a few 
hours  ago  glittered  so  lovely  in  the  glare  of  the  setting  sun.  But  with  the 
night  wind  dying  away  all  is  hushed  again,  save  the  low  gurgling  sound  from 
the  rolling  waters  of  the  rivulet  near  by  and  the  never-ceasing  notes  of  the 
cricket.  In  this  way  one  long  hour  is  passed  after  another,  and  the  question 
suggests  itself  more  than  once — what  time  of  the  night?  Whenever  for  the 
second  time  the  subdued  voice  of  the  owl  is  heard  answering  one  another,  then 
there  is  reason  to  hope  that  dawn  of  day  is  not  far  off.  * * * * A^  soon  as 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


321 


daylight  peeps  through  the  branches,  I rise  from  my  heap  of  leaves,  the  dry 
splinters  brought  with  me  from  home  are  kindled,  and,  in  addition  to  a few 
grains  of  quinine,  a good  cup  of  strong  coffee  without  sugar  soon  revives  my 
chilly  frame.  Having  packed  up  my  things,  I again  scramble  along  river  and 
ravine  gathering  ferns  and  flowering  plants.  Thus  occupied  I turn  gradually 
homeward  in  a round-about  way.  * * * * This  is  all  very  well  in  dry  weather. 
But  in  the  rainy  season  it  is  not  quite  so  pleasant.  * * 

But  these  excursions  were  sometimes  not  unattended  with  risk  if  the  fol- 
lowing is  to  be  believed  : “ It  is  well  known  that  in  Trinidad  there  is  no  scarcity 

of  serpents,  but  I was  not  prepared  for  the  following  which  I read  the  other 
day,  and  which  happened  in  a remote  district  near  a cacao  plantation,  hidden 
and  isolated  in  the  midst  of  extensive,  low  and  level  primeval  forests,  where 
shade  and  dampness  reign  forever,  and  where,  at  times,  I roamed  about  and 
had  the  pleasure  of  gathering  many  a rare  fern:  ‘On  the 9th  of  December  some 
men,  at  work  in  a cacao  plantation,  on  the  river  Manco,  belonging  to  Mr. 
Augustine,  heard  cries  of  alarm.  On  reaching  the  spot  from  whence  the  cries 
had  come,  they  saw  a man  enveloped  in  the  folds  of  a monstrous  serpent.  They 
were  not  sufficiently  armed,  but  presently  returned  in  larger  numbers,  and  with 
cutlasses  chopping  the  snake  through  at  several  of  the  folds,  killed  it  and  dis- 
engaged the  man’s  body.  The  man  was  dead  and  was  stretched  by  the  enor- 
mous pressure  of  the  serpent’s  embrace  to  the  length  of  seven  feet.’”  Whether 
Fendler  thought  this  a mere  “snake  story”  or  not,  he  prudently  concluded, 
“ Now,  however,  if  I go  to  these  and  similar  woods  again,  I shall  take  along  a 
more  effective  knife  than  the  one  I usually  carry.” 

Here  is  the  relation  of  another  event  which  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  char- 
acter of  the  people  by  whom  he  was  surrounded  : “ Having  ascended  one  of  the 
highest  ridges  of  the  Saut  d’eau  mountains,  about  ten  miles  from  town,  I took 
occasion  to  visit  a man  known  all  about  as  Popo  Fernand  (though  his  real 
name  is  Joseph  Isodore),  in  order  to  inquire  of  him  about  apiece  of  land  that 
was  offered  for  sale  in  his  neighborhood.  On  my  way  thither  I was  astonished 
to  fiud  that  in  and  beyond  the  village  of  Maraval  every  man,  woman  and  child 
knew  where  the  man  lived,  though  his  cabin  was  miles  away  in  the  mountains 
in  an  out  of-the-way  place.  When  I at  last  reached  his  premises  I found  no 
one  there,  but  noticed,  as  something  unusual,  a great  number  of  beehives  stuck 
all  around  his  cabin  and  outhouses,  the  first  beehives  I have  seen  in  Trinidad. 
After  a while  a woman  came  up  and  called  aloud  Fernand’s  name.  He  soon 
made  his  appearance.  Neither  he  nor  any  of  his  neighbors  could  speak  Eng- 
lish and  I could  not  speak  their  language.  * * * * The  man  seemed,  how- 

ever, to  be  courteously  disposed.  In  order  to  see  how  the  land  lay,  I exposed 
my ‘little  pocket  compass  in  his  presence,  when  at  once  he  seemed  to  become 
alarmed,  and  made  me  understand  that  he  thought  the  instrument  was  intended 
to  show  the  spot  where  money  was  hid  in  the  ground.  Of  this  notion  I tried  to 
disabuse  him.  Soon  after  he  invited  me  into  his  room  and,  as  is  customary 
here,  he  asked  me  * * * to  help  myself  to  the  contents  of  a small  bottle  he 
set  before  me.  Not  to  show  any  signs  of  distrust,  I poured  out  about  two  thim- 
blefuls of  the  liquor,  mixing  it  with  plenty  of  water,  but  became  somewhat 
suspicious  after  drinking  it  on  noticing  that  Fernand  himself  had  not  taken 
any  of  the  bottle’s  contents.  About  ten  minutes  later,  on  my  way  back,  I ex- 
perienced a strange  state  of  mind  such  as  never  before  I had  happened  to  be  in. 
There  were  neither  dizziness,  stupefaction  nor  exhilarating  symptoms.  Visions 
and  strange  incoherent  thoughts  flashed  across  my  mind  continually  and  van- 
ished at  once  as  quickly  as  they  came.  Any  theme  I made  an  effort  to  think 
upon  slipped  from  my  memory,  and  instead  thereof  quite  a different  theme  pre- 
sented itself  with  the  same  futile  result,  until  I became  frightened  at  my  own 
thoughts  and  terrified  at  my  condition  of  mind.  After  a two  hours  brisk  and 
steady  walk  this  unpleasant  irritation  of  mind  gradually  subsided.  * * * * 
What  would  have  been  the  result  had  I taken  a little  more  of  that  liquor?” 


322 


BOTANICAL  GAZETTE. 


Sufficient  has  been  written  to  show  what  manner  of  man  Fendler  was.  It 
has  been  more  than  eighteen  months  since  the  writer  heard  directly  from  him, 
and  now  only  the  bare  fact  of  his  death  is  known,  letters  of  inquiry  directed  to 
persons  in  authority  at  Port  of  Spain  remaining  unanswered.  Those  who  have 
been  privileged  to  become  well  acquainted  with  him  will  not  soon  forget  this 
kindly,  simple,  honest-hearted  man,  nor  cease  to  regret  that  they  can  no  longer 
enjoy  his  friendship  and  correspondence. 


) .JKiA' 


